


Kill Me Now

by SoMuchDepends



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eventual Romance, F/M, I was going through something, Slow Burn, Slow Dancing, wow this is dramatic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 14:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 7,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15583917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoMuchDepends/pseuds/SoMuchDepends
Summary: The list of Gil-approved spouses for Anne included a single entry, and that entry was certainly not the man holding Anne on the front of the invitation Gil held before him. In the entire history of the world, has chicken or beef ever been such a difficult decision for anyone? Modern.





	1. Chapter 1

Until extremely recently, Gilbert Blythe never had so much trouble choosing between chicken or beef. Mostly, Gilbert was reassuringly calm and confident, a valuable attribute for a prospective surgeon. Making practical decisions under pressure had always been his strong suit; yet, here he was, staring at a slip of card stock and completely unable to decide.

Chicken or beef?

Gil's heart tightened painfully as his eyes skimmed the card's delicate script. She had to know this was killing him; she had to know how cruel she was. Was she that naive? How could she possibly expect him to come?

Apparently, she did, and he found himself in a similar line of thought. Gil couldn't think of a reason to decline; at least, a reason that would withstand the barrage of question he would receive. He was already going to be in town for the wedding. His mother wouldn't hear of him sulking in his room during the weekend of the wedding. And he dare not disappoint the gossips of Avonlea by not attending. He was cornered; he could already feel the stares of whole town.

"This is ridiculous," Gil muttered. "I'm being ridiculous."

Gil sighed. His life had been on a downhill spiral since his sophomore year of college. Since graduation, rock bottom was rapidly approaching, and Gil was bracing himself for the messy impact that was surely Anne's wedding.

He pushed back from the kitchen table in his tiny apartment and paced the mottled linoleum.

So much of his life had balanced on Anne's presence, and all of his future seemed desolate without her. But he couldn't seem to blame her. Gilbert knew he was responsible for his own choices, his own future, and his own happiness, but without Anne, his life seemed bleak. And he couldn't help but admire her. He envied the way her happiness could exist without him. Anne had moved on, and his life seemed on pause.

And he couldn't even decide between proteins.

And Anne was marrying Roy Gardiner.

Life was finding new and exciting ways to make him feel completely, awfully out of control.

"Get it together," Gil said, striding towards the table and picking up his pen.

Gil felt his confidence clicking into place again as he checked the box next to chicken. Relief washed over him, and for a few seconds, rock bottom seemed distant.

But then he knew the worst was hardly over, and he had only a few months to build up his strength.

"Kill me now," Gil muttered, as he brought his forehead to rest on the table. "This is even making me hate chicken."


	2. Chapter 2

"Ughhhh, nooo…" Gilbert groaned as he turned over in his bed.

The night before, Gil had placed his alarm clock in his room's doorway in an attempt to force his future self to get up on time. Yet here he was, 5:07 on a Thursday morning, and Gilbert had slept through 37 minutes of incessant alarm ringing; his landlady was going to love him.

"Crap," Gil said, as he pulled himself into a sitting position. "Crap!"

Gil hopped out of bed and began scrambling about his room. Tossing on a grey shirt and jeans, Gil skidded into his dinky bathroom, set a new record for the fastest teeth brushing in North America, and shoved his damp toothbrush into his suitcase.

He was headed back to Avonlea today.

For Anne's wedding-weekend extravaganza.

Gil grabbed his suitcase, took a last-minute glance about his room, and then went through a harried mental checklist.

"What am I forgetting? What, what, what, what?" Gil murmured as he checked his pockets for his wallet and keys and walked to his front door.

As he reached for the door and took once last glance backward, his eyes landed on a small, wrapped box on his kitchen table.

Anne's wedding gift.

Gil felt something clench in his heart, but he quickly snatched the gift and headed out the door; Gil didn't have time for introspection. He had told his mother that he would be in Avonlea by lunchtime, and he was already running 45 minutes late. Sprinting down the stairs, Gil began planning all his gas and coffee stops; he needed as much coffee as legally possible before this drive and this weekend. As he approached his car, Gil could feel the permanence of this weekend drawing closer. Anne was getting married.

He started his car.

To Roy Gardiner.

He shifted into reverse.

Anne was marrying Roy Gardiner, and he was going to have to watch it. He was going to have to celebrate it; he bought a gift for it.

"Kill me now," Gil said, as he pulled onto the first road of his journey. "This is going to be the longest weekend of my life."

Gil glanced at the dash and saw it was 5:25. In an hour or two, he would need to call his mother and let her know he might be a little late. Normally, she wouldn't mind, but for this particular weekend, Gil knew if he was even 30 seconds late, his mother would have already called him at least 3 times. She was not about to let her son back out of this; the Blythe pride was far too strong for that. Gilbert was not to be scared of Anne Shirley.

"I'm not scared of Anne," Gil reassured himself. "And I'm certainly not afraid of Roy. This weekend is going to be fine."

Spotting a coffeeshop ahead, Gil turned his blinker on and pulled into the parking lot. He was going to have coffee. He was going to Avonlea, his home. He was going to see his family. He was going to watch Anne Shirley marry someone decidedly not him. And he was going to be okay.


	3. Chapter 3

Fifteen minutes from Avonlea, familiar landmarks began to threaten Gilbert's carefully-cultured strength. For Gil, Avonlea and Anne were inextricably tangled in his mind, and every poplar grove and white-washed storefront conjured some hazy memory he would rather forget. Gilbert shook his head and tightened his grip on the steering wheel; he was off to a rather poor start.

"Not even seen Anne yet, and I'm already about to lose it," Gil thought. "I'm a disaster of a human being."

He had told his mother to expect him around two o'clock, or else he might just keep driving around the town. Driving cleared his mind, and going home meant passing Green Gables.

This would be the first real test.

On the road to his childhood home, the roof of Green Gables peaked out from behind the trees of the Lane, and Gil's eyes always guiltily searched for a glimpse of the slanting gables. But not today; today he needed to be stronger than his unhealthy desire to grasp at any form of Anne and her life.

Gil turned the corner right before the stretch from Green Gables to his house. There was her fence and there was her mailbox and there was her mother.

Gil's stomach imploded with dread; Marilla's eyes were downturned as she shuffled through a massive stack of letters and bills.

"Please, don't look up," Gil pleaded, as he unconsciously increased pressure on the gas pedal.

Marilla looked up.

Their eyes connected instantly, and Gil felt her eyes soften as she recognized the boy from down the street. The boy who had always been in love with her daughter. The boy wading through incredible discomfort to attend this particular wedding.

Sympathy charged the moment as Gil sped by and left gratitude in its place as he glanced in the rearview at the shrinking figure. Certainly, this weekend would be Gil's own personal hell, but Gil's heart warmed with a comfort for which he had not accounted.

Despite their polite outward acceptance, Avonlea felt a keen apprehension of the outsider usurping Gilbert Blythe's position. From almost every corner, solidarity radiated for Gil. They were and had always been rooting for him. Not for Roy.

And though this weekend's permanence threatened the established order, the collective mind of Avonlea felt a quiet solidarity for their hometown boy. Gil and Anne were supposed to be together. Everyone knew it.

"Expect for Anne," Gil whispered as his car pulled into the driveway of his parents' home.

This weekend was going to be quite awful, but Gil had far more strength supporting him than he previously thought.

"Gilbert Blythe, you are late!" Gil's mother yelled as she walked towards his car.

"A long weekend," Gil sighed, getting out of his car and smiling at his slightly irate mother. "A very long weekend."


	4. Chapter 4

Gil walked briskly down Di and Fred's driveway, the twilight's calm, blue air broken only by the warm lights of his destination. Gentle music and busy chatter amplified as he approached the burgundy front door, and he felt his courage evaporate.

Because Anne was practically the princess of Avonlea and queen of Redmond, her upcoming nuptials drew visitors from all over, including all the old A.V.I.S. crowd. When Di and Anne realized every member would be in town simultaneously, they immediately began organizing a reunion party. It was to be a precursor to her wedding, a chance for all the old friends to reacquaint themselves before the main event.

As soon as the first Facebook notification of the A.V.I.S. event popped up, Gil immediately decided he would definitely be "tired" that particular Thursday evening; he would be traveling that whole day, after all. Of course, he would have clung to his excuse had not Di privately messaged him minutes after she created the event. Using clear and only slightly obscene language, Di explained to him that he _would_ be attending, despite his feelings, excuses, or wants.

"Di always saw straight through my crap," Gil thought to himself as he placed his hand on the doorknob.

He could only picture one situation he'd rather be in less, and he would have to endure _that_ on Saturday morning.

"Kill me now," Gil sighed, but he took a steadying breath.

And he opened the door.

Naturally, all eyes turned to inspect the newcomer; by choice, however, all eyes lingered on the hazel-eyed guest then whipped to the corner where an auburn-haired woman stood. The clinks and murmurs ceased and the atmosphere constricted. It was the moment the rollercoaster reached the top of the first hill; it was the breath before the final kickoff in football; it was millisecond when potential energy transforms into kinetic.

Gil felt the distinct burn of familiar eyes, but he only met the particular grey gaze from the corner. Twelve years dissipated, and suddenly, they were in Mr. Phillips' classroom, together for the first time. They were competing at Queen's. They were riding their bicycles through Avonlea's autumn air. They were nervously boarding the train off to Redmond together. He was down on one knee—

Someone cleared his throat; the ephemeral spell shattered. Di recovered first and took control of the situation.

"Gil, it's so good to see you! You must be so tired from your trip, but you have to tell me, how's the internship?" Di asked, approaching Gil with her arms outstretched, a champagne flute in one hand.

Gil felt her whisper in his ear as she embraced him.

"Just talk to her, Gil," her voice coaxed. "She misses you as much as you miss her, I guarantee it."

When Di pulled back, she gave Gil a sympathetic smile which turned into a laugh as Fred tackled him in a hug.

Gil felt the dreadful coil in his stomach unfurl, and he began his rounds. He discussed theological stances with Moody. He picked up a beer and shared a laugh with Charlie. He congratulated Ruby on her recent engagement. He avoided Josie when he slipped off to the bathroom.

As he wiped his hands on the navy hand towel, Gil looked at his reflection in the dim bathroom; there was a blush burned on his cheek, even after 45 minutes of inane chatter. And he hadn't even gotten to the guest of honor yet. He splashed his face with cold water.

"Maybe Fred has some stronger liquor somewhere," Gil thought as he unlocked the door and switched off the light.

He exited the bathroom with a mind so preoccupied he walked right into a slight figure as he turned the dark corner towards the kitchen.

"Gil," a soft voice breathed.

Gil's heart clenched, and he looked down into the sparkling eyes he knew by heart.

"Anne," Gil said gently, his breath catching.

Again, the party paused, but there were no distractions this time.

At least, no distractions other than those the two could generate.

"Gil," Anne repeated. "You're on my toes."

Reality resumed.

"Oh!" Gil sputtered, quickly jumping back. "I'm so sorry!"

"It's okay," Anne laughed. "You never have to be sorry, Gil."

Her words connoted perhaps more than they should have, but between Anne and Gil, most everything meant more than it really should, especially in this current stage of their lives. But Gil let the moment hang before forcing the conversation forward.

"Well, how about a proper hug? I don't suppose literally colliding with you counts as a nice embrace, does it?" Gil smiled, as he wrapped Anne in his arms.

The hug, too, meant a bit more than perhaps it should have to both parties.


	5. Chapter 5

Anne and Gil jumped apart when a creaking floorboard echoed down the hall. Their hug had lingered just past the line of propriety, and both felt the same sticky guilt bubble in their hearts. Fortunately, the witness was only Fred and Di's house cat, Jane.

The two old friends offered each other blushing grins and stood at odds, unsure of what to do.

What was there to do?

How do two old friends recover lost time?

How could they erase all the mistakes that crippled their past?

Gil's mind fought to stay calm; he needed to act quickly if he was to keep Anne near.

"Where's Roy?" Gil sputtered, his heart thumping desperately.

"Ah, well, he went to White Sands to meet up with some old friends," Anne said, her eyes focused on the wall behind him. "They're throwing him a bit of a bachelor party."

"Oh?" Gil said, his brow furrowing in vague disapproval.

Anne skillfully read his facial expression and nervously jumped to clarify the situation. As she rambled her explanation, her hands twisted nervously in front of her.

"Of course! I didn't think it quite right for him to be here; it is an exclusive A.V.I.S. party, you know! And the way everything worked out, Roy wasn't going to have a bachelor party. So when his White Sands friends wanted to see him, one thing led to another…." Anne's voice petered out when she caught Gil's eyes.

Gilbert had quite definitely stopped listening to Anne's urgent voice. Instead, his eyes focused on the pale hands clasped before her. Specifically, his gaze locked onto her left wrist where Anne had wrapped a long silver chain. When she had unconsciously wrung her hands, a small charm fell into view.

A delicate, pink enamel heart.

For Gil, the charm's quiet and opaque luster far outshone the gaudy sparkle of the engagement ring on her left hand. The two pieces of jewelry contested each other, as if Anne should only be wearing one or the other.

Anne's nervous gaze attracted Gil's focused eyes.

Suddenly, the air thickened in the hallway, and tension warmed the cool shadows. Anne took a small step backwards, and Gil unconsciously reached for her forearm.

"Anne, I—"

"I really must be getting back," Anne said shortly. "I didn't get to talk to Ruby yet, and I know she's dying to show off her ring!"

When Anne made another move to retreat, Gil's hand finally reached its destination.

"Anne, please," he began again.

"Really—" Anne interrupted.

"We really need to talk," Gil's voice sliced through Anne's excuse.

"Oh?" Anne said, forcing nonchalance. "What about?"

"You must feel something, Anne," Gil cried desperately.

In the dim hallway, Gil caught a spark of longing flicker in Anne's grey eyes, but a look of determination quickly quelled it.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Anne began. "You sound tired, Gil. You had quite the drive today, didn't you? It must be the trip, or else you'd never say such insane things!"

The look in Gil's eyes discredited Anne's words as she said them; Anne knew it, and Gil knew that Anne knew it.

"Anne," Gil said softly. "I still love you. You know that I do. I have since I was twelve and I think I always will."

"Gil—"

Pain flooded Gil's countenance with the pitiful sound of his name on her lips.

"No, please, don't say anything yet," Gil pleaded, quickly moving to finish the speech that was forming quickly in his mind. "I know you're marrying Roy. Hell, you're marrying him in less than two days, but when I see that necklace on your wrist and that look in your eyes, I have to ask—one last time— if you are sure you're marrying the right man."

Gilbert felt his words float into the void between them, and he watched Anne's face contort in turmoil. Her pause gave him hope, and her eyes flicked upward and downward in thought.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and as soon as he did, he heard her small voice break the stillness.

"I can't, Gil."

When he opened his eyes, he saw her retreating form turn the corner, returning to the safety of the party. He released his breath and sagged against the wall behind him.

"Kill me now," he whispered as a wave of disappointment crashed over his heart and Jane nuzzled his ankle with a purr.


	6. Chapter 6

t had begun to rain. Gil's headlights cut through the dark, wet evening as he drove home from the disastrous A.V.I.S. party. His radio crooned out an appropriately moody tune, and his windshield wipers kept a beat slightly behind the song's. As he approached his turn at the Lane, his blinker added another out-of-sync rhythm.

"I am, by far, the stupidest prick to ever exist," Gil thought to himself.

He had sat in Di's hallway for a good ten minutes before he could pull himself together. When he stood up, he felt a wave of clarity wash over him instead of the familiar crash of dizziness.

Anne was getting married.

Very soon.

She had turned him down.

More than once.

So why was he under the impression that Anne owed him anything? Why did he feel obligated to express his unrequited love to her?

Yet again.

Two nights before her wedding.

Why was that even an option in his mind? Let alone the actual course of action.

No wonder Anne had turned him down. Again.

He was selfish, pathetic, thoughtless. And he didn't even see himself as he truly was until now. What had he expected Anne to do? Why was Anne always at the mercy of one of his romantic outbursts? Why was she expected to be grateful that he wanted her?

Gil was thoroughly ashamed of himself; he hoped Anne would be willing to speak with him at least once more. He must apologize for his pig-headedness.

In this contemplative state of mind, Gil absently drove along the Lane. The rainfall increased. So distracted by his thoughts, he almost missed the car stopped on the wayside.

A deep navy car.

Anne's car.

Gil felt his heart do… well, something strange. If he had a psychology textbook and a lifetime for discussion, Gil couldn't have described how he felt.

A chance to see her again.

A chance to apologize

A chance to help.

Before he could even process it, Gil was pulled off the road with his hand reaching for the door latch. He approached the car; the engine was off, but he saw a flash of movement.

Anne hopped out. In her striped yellow raincoat and sky blue galoshes, she was warm sunlight in the blustery night. Gil gazed at her apologetically; she met his eyes with a heavy half-smile.

"Hello, Gil," Anne said quietly. "I must say, I hadn't quite expected you of all people, though. God must have quite the sense of humor."

Her words sounded awkward and forced; she gestured toward her car.

"I ran out of gas. I meant to get some this afternoon, but Di called and needed me to pick up some more cups, and I just completely forgot," Anne rambled in her nervousness, causing Gil to grin nostalgically. "I was going to wait it out, but I texted Marilla, and I think she'll be here soon."

Anne's words faded out at the look on Gil's face.

"Anne, I need to say something," Gil began. "I need to apologize, rather. I've been so… so selfish. You're getting married to Roy, and I respect that. So much. You've moved on with your life and shouldn't be punished for that. I've expected you to be as stuck on me as I am on you."

Gil had taken a few steps toward Anne, and her eyes rested kindly on his turmoiled face. The rain slowed.

"And I can't believe how much of a prig I've been, and I could spend the rest of my life apologizing to you, and it still wouldn't be enough," Gil said. "I hope that one day you can forgive me, and I am not expecting it to be today. I know it'll take time, but I would wait forever if you could ever forgive me."

Gil stopped as glimmers of happiness brightened Anne's face; her expression jumpstarted his heart, and his words began to pour out, filterless.

"Do you want me to drive you home? I know you said Marilla's coming, but I could just take you now? Here, get in my car. You really shouldn't be out in the cold and rain. You might get sick, and Di would never let you hear the end of it if you've got a runny nose on your wedding day!"

Gil's rambles ceased as a small hand came to rest on his gesturing forearm. He looked down into Anne's flushed face.

"I forgive you, Gil," Anne's voice barely a decibel above the rain's quiet patter.

The pair had somehow moved within a foot of each other without the intent of either participant; Anne's face inclined towards Gil's.

An unknown energy pulled them together. Now, they were only inches apart.

But a flash of lights dispelled the force and the pair snapped into reality.

Marilla's car hummed slowly towards the awkward pair, her headlights illuminating a scene both parties would rather stay hidden. As the car stopped close behind Anne, Gil yet again caught Marilla's gaze. Her expression seemed almost as guilty as his and doubly apologetic; she hadn't wanted to interrupt this particular moment.

But only one person within a twenty mile radius would've wanted to interrupt this particular moment. And he was probably quite indisposed at the moment.

A quick goodbye from Anne and one last, plaintive look from Marilla, and Gil was alone again. In the rain. And felt, once more, the sting of hope given briefly then ripped away.


	7. Chapter 7

Gil hardly slept that night. He laid in his childhood bed and stared at the flashing red display of his old alarm clock. With every new digit that formed, he felt the evening's disappointment dissipate.

And the meek morning sun rose again. As it always does.

Time and the solar cycles were the constants on which Gil clung as his world settled into dust that night. Having dreaded this weekend for years, Gil found himself at a peaceful ruin. The future Gil had always envisioned was a time-sensitive matter; only a few hours remained, and he had exhausted every last chance with Anne.

So here he was. Breathing in the musty air of room that had not changed. In a house that had not changed. In a town that had not changed. And even though his life was crumbling, Gil felt something like closure.

"Which is fortunate," Gil ruefully chuckled. "Because she's getting married in a day."

But a riptide of a painful hope still pulled at his heart.

For the first time all night, he let his mind wander back to the moments before Marilla had interrupted.

Anne's pale face shone in the darkness as it inched towards his. He could see the sparkle of every raindrop caught in her soft hair. There was only seconds between them, and in those seconds, only the two of them existed. The look in Anne's storm-colored eyes would have eased him forward those last few inches. He felt the world slow and quiet, and the future he once saw disintegrating began to drift into place again.

But the light of day recolors every event, and Gil knew Marilla's interruption had been for the best. Anne was getting married, he was going to move on, and he would not see her again. Maybe for years. He imagined, maybe in a decade, as he walked down a street in a town far away out of nowhere Anne would exit a shop door, and they'd collide and get coffee, and then do it all over again in ten more years.

But only this was to be his future with Anne. Chance meetings in the distant future. And even though he felt the hope of the next twenty-four hours keenly, he understood what his ultimate fate with her would be.

And the display read 7:00 A.M.

The cold sunlight of an autumn morning filtered through the threadbare curtains that had always hung in his room. Gil rolled out of bed, got dressed, and tiptoed down the creaky staircase. As he turned to softly close the front door, Gil knew exactly where he was headed.

Hester Gray's Garden.


	8. Chapter 8

For Gil, a walk to Hester Gray's garden was almost a pilgrimage. Every neglected flower bed, every cluster of birches, every ancient path held some memory from some better day. And for Gil, every better memory included some trace of Anne Shirley.

Last night's events seemed ages ago to Gil, and the vague memories faded into the fog of his mind. He felt closure approach as he saw the overgrown gate of Hester's Garden. Perhaps this place of hopeful memories would be the last chapter in his relationship with Anne.

"It's time to let go," Gil whispered to himself. "Her book for me ended years ago."

The previous evening's spark of hope had been extinguished in the frigid, dark hours, and once again, Gil was at a peaceful loss.

Turning into the gate, Gil saw the crisp morning light wash over the fall scene. He felt the combined isolation of the abandoned garden, the early hour, and the new page he was turning, and Gil felt entirely alone.

Which is why he was so shocked to round a thicket and nearly crash into someone else. And for Gilbert Blythe, someone unexpected was almost always Anne, and today, as he stared down into her gray eyes, was no exception.

* * *

Had he been in a more stable state of mind, Gil would've appreciated the situation for its full comedic effect, but as it stood, his mind whirred with much simpler, though frenzied, observations.

With his hand resting on her waist and her hand clutching the wrist of his free arm, the couple stood in an frozen dance. The collision had been a surprise to both parties, but neither Anne nor Gil would have expected to meet anyone but each other that day in the Garden. Coincidences riddled their past, and despite the next day's looming event, it appeared that Fate was not yet done with Anne and Gil.

A minute of silence passed, and Anne broke the lull.

"Gilbert Blythe, why am I not surprised?" Anne said, her joke reaching her words but not her tone.

"Well, I couldn't sleep," Gil murmured, his hand still on her waist and his eyes desperately searching hers for any kind of reaction.

"Me either," Anne replied, her hand still on his wrist.

"Are you excited? For tomorrow?" Gil asked, his tone forced.

"I suppose I am," Anne said, her eyes dropping from his.

"Well, I want you to know that I am very thankful for your forgiveness, Anne. I just want you to be so, so happy," Gil began, his tone on the edge of rambling. "I know after all that's happened, I hardly deserve an invitation to your wedding, but I am so grateful that you decided to send me one. I know it probably wasn't the easiest decision for you or Roy."

Anne's expression softened at Gil's rushed effusions. Her hand slid to his upper arm.

"I picked chicken, you know, but I figured with Jane Andrews as your caterer, I could hardly go wrong," Gil continued nervously. "I have a wedding gift for you and Roy, back at the house. I picked it because—"

"Shh," Anne said softly, but Gil stopped as if she had slapped him.

"Shh, I need to tell you something, Gil," Anne continued in the same tone as her hand shifted to his shoulder.

Gil's eyes followed her movement, falling once again on the silver chain and enamel heart. His pulse quickened.

"I need to tell you just how blind I've been."

"Anne, I don't understand—" Gil began as he sensed a pull of gentle hope tug his heart.

But Anne's hand slid behind his neck, and in an instant, Anne pulled him down and kissed him.

And though Gil still didn't understand, he cared not in the least.


	9. Chapter 9

For a man who had wished for metaphorical death on an above average basis this weekend, Gilbert Blythe was tremendously happy to be alive in this moment. Anne's arms wrapped around his neck and his hands were charting paths up and down her back. Perhaps Anne had intended a short embrace, but Gil seized and held his opportunity with twelve years of hope and desperation.

Now having lost track of time, the pair would have continued if not for a sudden ringing.

"Ahhh," Anne murmured, breaking the kiss and pulling her cellphone from her pocket.

Gil's eyes fell on her screen: an alarm titled "Meet Di at Hall" flashed on the display. The synapses in Gil's foggy mind began to fire again; today was Friday, tonight was Anne's rehearsal dinner, and that was to take place in the old Town Hall.

Reality broke over the couple. Though there was nothing he wanted less, Gil stepped back from Anne and put an appropriate distance between them again. Gil knew what just occurred between Anne and himself affected far more than just them. Whether he liked it or not, he couldn't deny that Roy was intrinsically involved in this, and at this very moment, Roy was preparing for an event that Gil was still not entirely sure was off. Anne held both Roy's and his mutually exclusive futures in her hands, and even though Gil desperately wished she would decide in his favor, he couldn't say her timing was impeccable. Food had been prepared, friends and family flown in, decorations stuffed in every corner.

But Anne was here. And she had kissed him.

The daylight was warming, and Gil knew the morning's clarity would soon be gone, but he hoped that Anne's clarity of mind would remain.

This time, he broke the silence.

"Anne, we probably should talk. As much as I'd like to continue…" Gil gave Anne a look that made her blush to the roots. "I think there's a lot to say at this point. Especially in light of…." Gil drifted off again, vaguely gesturing to her phone.

"Yes…. I suppose we should," Anne began. "But I'm not quite sure where to start."

"Are you still going to marry him, Anne?" Gil said, breathlessly. "I know you said you'd been blind… about us, but I know he means something to you. You agreed to marry him, and I don't want you to choose me as a last resort of cold feet. As much as it pains me, I'd let you walk away, pretend this never happened, and you could marry Roy."

As his speech went on, Gil watched Anne's emotions shadow her face, but he couldn't quite identify them. Two years had put him out of practice.

"You won't have to disappoint anyone," Gil said slowly. "I don't want you to throw away your future with Roy for something you're not sure you want."

Anne drew in a sharp breath.

"Gilbert Blythe," Anne said, closing the safe distance by one step. "The only people I care about disappointing are Marilla, Di, and _you_! I know I have given you no reason to be sure of me, but when I look back at my life since I met you, Gil, only then do I feel like I was really alive!"

Gil's knees went to jelly, and he could hardly believe the happiness Anne was offering up.

"I know this is an inopportune time for me to realize it, but I can't keep lying to myself, to Roy, to you!" Anne continued, growing more impassioned. "I have always loved you, and I am so sorry that I waited 'til the day before my wedding to tell you. You are the anchor in my life, and Gil, in the past two years, I have just felt so lost without you! I've been so foolish, and I have dragged your heart around and treated you like dirt. I've tried to get over you and have used Roy just as terribly."

Gil moved forward and pulled a nearly sobbing Anne into his arms.

"Shhh, Anne, it's okay," Gil soothed.

"It's the exact opposite of okay!" Anne cried. "I have used you all so horribly! Lied to everyone. Acted like it was all together, but in my heart, I knew I was falling apart. And here I am! The day before my wedding to a man I'm not in love with, pouring out my self-made troubles to the man I love but whose heart I spat on."

Anne's alarm rang again; the couple felt a force beyond their control pulling them apart. Whether either wanted to admit it, both had plenty of unfinished business to conduct before their relationship could progress.

"Anne," Gil began as softly as possible. "You should really go."

"I know," Anne murmured, her forehead against his chest.

"And whatever you need to do," Gil said, his breath uneven. "Please do it. Don't figure me into what's right for your life unless you want to."

Anne looked up at him and smiled. After so much pain and uncertainty, one smile from Anne was almost more than Gil could handle.

But then, Anne reached up and kissed him, and it was definitely more than he could take.

"I'll see you soon," Anne said over her shoulder as she walked towards the garden's gate.

"I certainly hope so," Gil smiled.

As he leaned against a tree in the silence of Hester Gray's Garden, Gil looked up at the sky and apologized for every time he had wished for death.

He wouldn't be here if his mantra for this weekend had been heeded.

And he wouldn't trade where he was now for anything.

And though a few worries still lingered, Gil walked home with all the hope in the world that Anne would return to him.


	10. Chapter 10

Practically tipsy with happiness, Gil meandered toward his childhood home in happy leisure. He was hardly aware of whom or what he passed, and before he realized, he was hiking the stairs to his room.

When he opened the door, his eyes fell on the one thing that could restart reality: Anne and Roy's wedding gift.

The gift itself was of no importance; just a meaningless something off their registry. But what mattered was that there was still Roy, still another wait, still another doubt. After all of this morning's revelations, Gil only clung to the hope that Anne would return, and if she did, that she would still want him, the way he had always wanted her. But after over a decade of uncertainty, Gil had difficulty finding his hope.

He flopped on his bed and waited for a call or text or knock.

And somehow, his fretful mind fell asleep.

When Gil awoke, his alarm display flashed 2:00 p.m. He checked his phone, but there were no alerts. Sighing, Gil stretched out on his green checkered bedspread; most people in limbo had waited less time than he.

Rolling off the bed, Gil put his shoes back on and jogged down the hall. His parents weren't home; they must have been out running errands.

"Well, I guess I could grab something to eat," Gil thought as he walked downstairs. "Lawson's General Store should be open."

Gil walked outside and turned towards town. Though Gil was hungry and did love the turkey wraps at Lawson's, he was heading towards town for another reason as well. Anne's rehearsal dinner was being held in the center of town, and Gil knew if he could just slip into Lawson's, he would know what the status of the event was. Nearly every person in Avonlea was involved with the wedding in some respect, and though the dinner was still a few hours away, Gil knew if Anne had called the wedding off, the center of Avonlea would be buzzing.

So Gil walked on, with the smile of someone whose world depends on a trip to buy a turkey and swiss wrap.


	11. Chapter 11

One more corner.

One more corner, and then he'd know.

The rest of Gil's life depended on this day, and as he approached the lurid blue walls of the old A.V.I.S. building, he paused and reached for the building as a support.

Sliding down the chipping, cyan wall, Gilbert realized he was not quite ready. Whatever Anne chose, he still needed one more moment to prepare for either future.

Gil picked at the grass and turned his head towards the poplar grove next to the building. A warm memory crossed his mind, and suddenly, he was back in time. He saw a younger Anne lean against a poplar's creamy, peeling bark, and a version of himself peek around at her while pulling a funny face. The past Anne giggled and started to skip away, but the other Gil grabbed her hand to keep her near. The memory melted as a shocked Anne gasped yet kept her hand in his; Gil remembered this day as an encouragement, as a hope that Anne would someday always keep her hand in his.

The memory's Gil had no idea of all the painful waiting ahead of him, but the naive hope of the tableau transferred its innocent magic to the present day, and Gil stood with all the strength he needed to discover his future.

And he turned the corner.

And it was as if the whole town was waiting for him. Hundreds of expectant eyes locked on his, and Gilbert wished to melt into the ground on the spot.

"Kill me now," he whispered as his left foot inched forward.

The town folk's unnerving gaze momentarily distracted him from his cause, but he soon began searching for evidence of a wedding to be or not to be.

In front of the town hall, Moody and Charlie were untacking a hand-painted sign. Jane was handing mini cheesecakes to random passerbys, and Diana was pacing back and forth on her cellphone with the look of a mother defending her child.

And then, out of all the eyes prying for his, Gil caught a particular set: Marilla Cuthbert's. The woman he had seen on the roadside a few days earlier now stood across the town square with the same look as before.

With one notable change. Her expression now had a flavor of triumph, and as Gil broke the connection, he caught the eyes of several other Avonlea citizens, all of whom gazed at him in much the same way as Marilla.

Gil began moving forward, guided by the hopeful expressions on the faces of the townsfolk, all of whom had been waiting for this day. Magnetically drawn to the town hall, Gil parted the crowd until he was at the steps of the old establishment.

And above him, the old, oak doors creaked open, and there stood Anne (presumably, still) Shirley.

Anne's eyes lighted on him with a love for which he had waited his whole life, and he felt every last hope in his soul shift into real happiness.

All the years of agony and deferred dreams and lost hopes were gone in the moment Anne descended the first step towards him.

He held out his hand when she was three steps above him at his eye level, and this time, she accepted with purpose. Gil felt the peace of knowing she wouldn't pull away, of knowing it wouldn't be the last or only time he would hold her hand.

In the warm sunlight of midday and under the careful scrutinization of an extended, extended family, Gil and Anne stared at each other with freedom and love for the first time.

If Gil and Anne had been paying any attention to the curious faces of their audience, they might have been embarrassed, but thankfully, neither were.


	12. Chapter 12

A few golden seconds passed before Gil broke the surface of reality. He stood with the entire town behind him and Anne, whose wedding he had just broken up, floating before him.

The weight of their mutual actions strangled his conscience as the town's murmurs amplified.

He met Anne's eyes.

And his guilt unfurled in that instant.

Without regard for their audience, Gil wrapped his arms around Anne's waist and pulled her in for their second kiss of the day.

All of Avonlea watched breathlessly as a long-hoped-for dream materialized on the stairs of their town hall, and when Moody Spurgeon wolf-whistled and Ruby Gillis squealed, the town's quiet hope for Gil's triumph transitioned into raucous being.

Gil felt Anne's mouth smile against his, breaking their embrace.

"Let's find a more private place, perhaps?" Anne whispered as her hand traveled from his brown curls to his hand on her waist.

Gil hardly registered her words or actions, and he soon found himself being tugged down the sandy concrete stairs of the hall. In his future recollections, Gil would remember an ocean of smiling, familiar faces cheering him on, but in this moment of time, all his attention focused on the shiny auburn hair ahead of him.

And he would follow her anywhere.

And he had always.

And he was now.

Lover's Lane opened before the new couple, and Gil exhaled at the relief of being alone.

An audience was the last thing he needed now.

While he was overjoyed at the past half-hour's events, he knew a few strings remained untied, and he and Anne would have much to discuss and decide and plan and fix.

One topic most of all.

Anne was still pulling him further, and she took a sharp left into an oak grove carpeted with tall grass and edged with Queen Anne's lace.

She stopped and turned to face her follower.

The long-estranged pair squared against each other as much as their conjoined hands would allow. The atmosphere was tinged with peace, unresolved issues and slight awkwardness.

"He's gone, you know," Anne began meaningfully, starting off on the tip-toed-around topic. "As soon as I left you, I headed straight to the hall, dragged him into the back room, and told him."

Her declaration, which started strong, ended in a whisper.

Anne gripped his hand a little tighter before she let go and moved to the enclosure's edge to inspect the carrot-scented clusters of flowers.

With her back to him, Gil could only read her posture, and he saw a weighty amount of pain in her tense shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Anne," Gil said softly.

"Yes, well, as soon as the words were out of my mouth, his eyes bulged out of his head," Anne continued, turning so her profile was now in view. "He kept opening his mouth to say something, but then closing it abruptly. And then before I knew what I was doing, I had fiddled my engagement ring off, and I was folding his palm around it."

Anne paused her speech and plucked a bunch of the foamy flowers.

Gil watched as she considered each tiny, creamy bud and each word she was about to say.

"I could see it in his eyes, Gil," Anne whispered. "So much hurt. So much anger. But not anger I could justify in matching. I strung him on, and I ruined his heart today. Our wedding day."

Anne leaned against an ancient oak for support as she waded through her thoughts.

"And the worst part," Anne said, finally meeting Gil's eyes. "I still wasn't as sorry seeing that look in his eyes as when I saw it in yours."

"Oh…" Gil breathed, as he watched the flowers drop from her hand and float towards the ground.

"I am so sorry for what I did to Roy," Anne continued, taking purposeful steps toward Gil. "And he will always have a place in my heart. I'm just mortified that up until now, I didn't realize Roy may have a place in my heart, but you have my whole heart, soul and everything else I am."

Gil felt his whole world locking into place with every syllable falling from Anne's beautiful lips, and he took unconscious, magnetic steps towards the woman before him in a gauzy, pink dress.

"Anne Shirley, I would love you no matter how many times you broke my heart," Gil began.

"Gil…" Anne whispered through a rueful grimace.

The lovers were just one step each from the other now, and Gil's words fell freely and rightly.

"But I've got to say, I'm glad you finally made the decision I —and all of Avonlea— knew you should," Gil smiled, and Anne's stormy expression broke with a sweet smile. "Because you had me quite at my rope's end this weekend, you know."

In the cool midday, Gil finally reached Anne in the middle of a dewy, green grove, and all was well.

The End


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